


Ghosts

by sweaterbarnes



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: (when the plane falls), Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Depressed Steve, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Suicide, ghosts are known, snapshots of Steve's life, the dead are still around, time jumps, train scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterbarnes/pseuds/sweaterbarnes
Summary: A look in at parts of Steve's life in a universe where once someone dies they're still around as ghosts but are tied to a graveyard/cemetery for eternity.





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a few days late birthday gift for my amazing friend [](https://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/)Nik! Check out her blog and give her a follow, she posts all sorts of fandom goodness and is super sweet <3
> 
> TW: train scene angst, Steve's suicide through plane, and general depression on Steve's end.

The ghosts had always been there, sitting around and watching a world they couldn’t touch continue without them. They still interacted with their loved ones but it was never the same as when they were alive. A few minutes here and there with a brother, son, or friend and then they would leave and the ghosts had to stay. Forever chained to the gravestone that marked where they’d been lay to rest, stuck in the same place for eternity.

For Steve Rogers this was a wonderful thing. When his mother passed he hadn’t left her grave for three days, just sitting and letting her be with him as he cried. He didn’t think he would have made it a week without knowing she was still there, though not in the same apartment.

~~~~~~

“He took two girls dancing at the same time, Ma! And last week we went to the fair and he blew all his food money trying to win Dot a bear!”

“Mhm,” Sarah hummed absentmindedly as she leaned against the cement of her gravestone and looked over the new sketches Steve brought with him.

“Are you listening to me?”

“James won Dolores a prize.” She paused and looked up. “Dolores from mass? The one who used to lend you her drawing pencils?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a lovely girl, Steve, why are you upset? I think she’d be a good influence on him.”

“I don’t know, I just…he’s out all the time and I never see him anymore. I mean, not that that’s a problem, he’s a grown man he can do what he wants, but I can’t help-” He cut himself off and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“You worry?”

“Yeah.”

She looked away from the sketches and patted his hand comfortingly, a cold chill spreading from her palm through his body, making him shiver. “Your boy will be okay, he’ll come back to you soon enough.”

~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this,” Steve muttered, head in his hands as he stared at Bucky’s orders that lay mockingly on the table in front of him. Bucky leaned against the kitchen table next to him and chewed on his thumbnail, watching Steve like he was a ticking time-bomb.

“I was nervous about how you’d react,” he said, adding, “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“So you just decided to not tell me? Because you running off to the battlefield out of nowhere wouldn’t upset me?! ” Steve slammed his hands down on the table and pushed himself up to standing, fixing Bucky with a glare. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been listening to you for years.”

“It’s not that,” Bucky said. “I know how much you want this, want to fight, and I know how much I don’t. I didn’t want you to hate me because I was drafted and you weren’t.”

Steve deflated slightly but stayed propped on the table, hands curled into fists beside the papers. “Buck…I can’t say I’m thrilled about this but this certainly isn’t something that could make me hate you.” He shifted to copy Bucky’s stance, crossing his arms and cocking his hip against the table. He looked him over, eyes narrowed. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me? Going out every night? Hell, you haven’t mentioned Dolores in three years but you’ve gone on three dates with her in the past two weeks.”

Bucky winced and scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m shipping out in a week, I figured I’d live while I can, you know?”

“A week. You’re leaving in a week.” Steve’s voice was flat and Bucky flinched back, ready for the storm that usually followed that tone. Steve could’ve handled Bucky leaving when he had at least a few months to prepare but this was too much too soon. Steve was silent for a long time then, instead of saying anything more, he grabbed his coat and stormed out.

Bucky didn’t follow him to the graveyard.

~~~~~~

Freezing wind whipped in through the gaping hole in the side of the train. Steve tamped down his panic as Bucky went flying out, propelled by the force of the Hydra agent’s weapon, and scooped up his shield. He chucked it at the head of the agent with all his strength, relishing the grunt of pain he could hear through his mask. The second the agent hit the ground, Steve turned on his heel and rushed to the tattered side of the train, scrambling along the sheet of metal to get to Bucky. Bucky’s eyes were wide with fear as his legs swung wildly in the air, gloved hands fighting for purchase on slippery metal.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted, his veins running through with ice. He jumped out onto the closest handlebar he could reach and jammed his foot into a groove, securing himself. He stretched as far as he could and grabbed for Bucky’s arm. “Grab my hand!”

Bucky visibly steeled himself and let go with one hand, swinging himself up towards Steve. But, just as his fingers brushed Steve’s, the bar he was clinging to creaked and snapped off, dropping Bucky into the ravine as Steve’s fingers instinctively clenched around empty air. He screamed his name, anguish matching Bucky’s terror as his hoarse yell faded the further he fell, eventually disappearing into the snowy distance.

Steve stayed pressed to the train, staring unblinking down into the snow until he couldn’t take it anymore and pressed his forehead to his arm, squeezing back the tears that spilled out against his will.

Eventually, someone came looking for him. Dum-Dum stomped through the doorway and froze in place, taking in the destroyed train and the destroyed man hanging on it like it was all he had let in the world.

“Shit,” he breathed, slowly approaching Steve. “Cap, we have to get going or we’ll never make it back.”

Steve couldn’t respond, too cold to do anything but shiver and sob. Dum-Dum kept trying to coax him back into the relative safety of the train but he refused to move, refused to leave the last place he’d seen Bucky. It took the entire 107th to get him off the train and back to camp.

Once they were back at camp, Steve disappeared into the tent he shared with Bucky and wrapped himself in Bucky’s blanket. He curled up on one of the cots and stared at the canvas of the tent, absentmindedly rubbing the thin, scratchy material of the blanket between his fingers.

Bucky was gone. It was a strange thought, one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fully grasp. It felt right to cry but, after the train, he didn’t think he had any tears left to let out; they’d all run down his cheeks and into the ravine with Bucky. That right there was the long and short of it, wasn’t it? Bucky’s body was probably buried under a pound of snow by now. It wasn’t like when his mother passed and he’d gone to see her at her grave the next day. There wasn’t a body to bury, no grave for Bucky’s soul to stick to, nothing to keep him grounded. Without that Steve had no hope of ever seeing him.

Grief, real grief, hurt more than anything.

~~~~~~

Steve welcomed the frigid rush of water as the glass front of the plane cracked and allowed ocean water to invade the cabin. The water swallowed him up and shoved him against the hard back wall of the cabin, pushing its way in his nostrils and throat, choking him. He just moved with it, not fighting whatever the water decided to do to him.

It wasn’t like he had anything to come home to, not without Bucky’s grave. He knew, deep down, that he was being selfish. By dying here he was denying Bucky’s sisters a chance to come to terms with what had happened. They would be left without their brother and Steve, who they had claimed as their own despite there being no shared blood between them. Not to mention Bucky’s mother, who had essentially adopted him after his mother passed and couldn’t be with him as much as before. He knew all this, but he still refused to fight it. Home wasn’t enough to fill the hole the train had torn away. Besides, he and Bucky had always planned to be buried side by side and he did _not_ want to think about being stuck to a grave for the rest of time without his best friend by his side. The water crushed him and he closed his eyes as darkness edged into his vision.

~~~~~~

He’d been awake for two years and it felt like he’d been awake for the seventy he’d missed. His teammates tried and tried to engage him and failed most every time. The only two who managed to get through to him were Natasha and Clint, but even with them he’d only given them a few jokes to work with. He isolated himself as much as possible, spending most of his time in the city or his apartment when he wasn’t called for a mission. Eventually, they got the hint and let him be.

Hs saving grace had come five months ago, on one of his trips out to the store. On his way home, laden with bags and bags of groceries, he decided to take a shortcut and stumbled across a cemetery full of neat rows of uniform gravestones and tiny, wind-whipped flags. The gravestones were fading closer to the backend of the cemetery and so he shouldered his bags and made his way through the graves until he reached the row where the stones dated before 1950. He read each one carefully, so focused that a gruff voice from next to his ear startled him into dropping his bags. 

“You’re stepping on my grave, boy.”

He leapt back into a fighting stance only to realize the voice had come from an amused, not completely opaque, older gentleman who was leaning against a gravestone, watching Steve with a raised eyebrow. Steve looked down to see that, yes he was stepping on his grave, and carefully moved between graves with an embarrassed cough.

“Sorry.”

The ghost shrugged and looked him up and down. “You’re not dead, in uniform, or in black so why are you wandering through a cemetery in the middle of the day?” He gestured at the bags left forgotten on the grass. “And what’s with the food? Planning to throw a Halloween party in January?” 

Steve shook his head and started to gather his things. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was just looking for someone. Or, a few someones I suppose.”

“Oh? You’re awful young to know anyone down on this side.” The ghost cocked his head, appraising him again, this time with narrowed eyes.

“I’m older than you think,” Steve muttered. He shoved the last bottle into its bag and started to walk away, sighing when he saw the ghost start to follow him.

“Who’re you looking for?” the ghost asked, footsteps silent as he strolled beside Steve who was being very careful not to step on any more graves. He came to a halt when Steve stopped abruptly, making him phase through part of his arm on accident.

“Them.” Steve pointed towards a group of ghosts five graves away, laughing and tossing cards into the empty space between them.

The ghost behind him gave a soft, ‘oh,’ as he made the connection between the group ahead and Steve. “I’ll leave you to it…Captain,” he said, stepping away and vanishing.

Steve ignored him in favor of staring at his old friends, all a little worse for wear but still present and together. He approached quietly, smiling for the first time in months at Dum-Dum’s deep, belly laugh. Dernier muttered something angry in French as Morita threw down an ace with a triumphant laugh, earning him a smack on the back of the head from Falsworth. Steve just stood and watched the familiar sight, fighting down a rush of emotions that he’d been suppressing since Bucky fell. Eventually, Morita turned around, saw him, and cheered, waving him over eagerly.

“Who’s that?” Dum-Dum asked, turning and dropping his cards when he saw Steve. “Cap!” He jumped up and ran to embrace him, frowning in disappointment when he fell through him. Steve waved it off and grinned at him, laughing as the other Commandos swarmed him and guided him into their circle. Falsworth almost passed him some cards before he realized Steve wouldn’t be able to touch them and took them back with an apologetic smile.

“I know they’re a bit singed but you take what you can get when your only options for entertainment are card that a bunch of moody teenagers burned up in the middle of the night.” The group erupted into more stories about weird teenagers and maudlin families, voices overlapping each other as they all jumped at the chance to fill him in.

Steve curled his legs up to his chest and closed his eyes, relishing the sound of his rowdy friends. He’d missed this more than even he’d realized.

~~~~~~

“What’s wrong, Cap?” Dum-Dum asked, his forehead furrowing in concern as he looked Steve over.

Steve had buried his face in his hands and hadn’t spoken since he’d collapsed against Dum-Dum’s grave. Tears were dripping down his cheeks, onto his hand, and down his arm but he was still totally silent, it was quickly becoming obvious that he had been holding this in for far too long. Dum-Dum frowned and sat next to him, waiting him out. Eventually, Steve looked over at him, red eyes and streaky face tugging at his heart as he choked out, “Bucky’s alive.”

~~~~~~

Steve tightened his grip on Bucky’s hand as they made their way through the cemetery, smiling to himself as Bucky reciprocated. As they approached the back end of the cemetery and the Commandos came into view, Bucky audibly swallowed and slowed to a stop, resisting Steve’s tugs.

“They won’t bite,” Steve said.

“It’s just…you told them everything, right?” Bucky chewed on his lower lip nervously.

“I left out most of the gory details but yes, they know what happened.” Steve stepped up and cupped his chin, making him look him in the eyes. “And they don’t. Blame. You.”

Bucky inhaled and nodded, following Steve when he started walking again. Morita was the first to see them, again, and he almost fell over himself in his eagerness to get to them. The others followed him soon after and Steve moved out of the way to give Bucky room to process what was happening. Bucky’s gaze jumped from face to face, going wild as he tried to take in each face and re-memorize every detail and curve. Like they’d done with Steve, the Commandos talked over each other as they all tried to share different stories with Bucky and subtly guided him over to their meeting area.

Steve trailed behind them. He leaned against a tree and watched Bucky’s smile start to appear, spreading further across his face with each new anecdote. Bucky caught his eyes at one point and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

~~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, everyone!<3 Comments, kudos, and feedback are always welcome!
> 
> Stalk me on [](http://wolfbarnes.tumblr.com/)Tumblr.


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